Rowan stepped aside as the demon rushed past her and into the portal between the obelisks. She didn't fear for Ivy, at least not immediately. The demon wouldn't venture beyond its doorway on the other side of the portal, and the young Cat had been running fast.
The Queen flicked her ears and called, "Dragon!"
After a few moments, the little accursed pest dropped to the ground, a safe distance away from the Cat. "You—you called me?"
"Are there other dragons here?" Rowan strolled over to a gravestone and began digging. Presently she produced an old cat's collar. "Take this."
The dragon fluttered over. "Where have you sent Ivy?" He clamped his jaws around the collar, scaly lips wrinkling back at the taste of cold dirt and moss on the leather.
"You shall find out presently."
The dragon spit out the collar and hissed, oddly catlike. Most uncatlike, however, were the minute jet of flame and puff of white smoke that issued from the creature's mouth.
"So you can breathe fire," mused the Queen. "Isabella felt that we were too far from the Magic of the Distant Lands for dragonflame to kindle."
"What?"
Foolish creature, Rowan thought, but spoke almost kindly: "Never mind that now. The collar."
The dragon huffed and puffed like a wolf in an old children's tale, but whatever vestige of Distant Magic he possessed had evidently burned out for the moment. He grasped the collar in his feet. "What shall I do with it?"
"Follow her." Rowan switched her tail at the obelisks. "Take it with you. Don't put it on, whatever you do. It's for Familiars."